Inheritance
by Noc007
Summary: Sirius Black lost it all on that fateful night, including the one person who he cherished - his daughter, Victoria. Fourteen years later she returns home.
1. 0: Life

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_Truth is mighty and will prevail. There is nothing wrong with this, except that it ain't so._

- Mark Twain

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_Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment._

- Buddha

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_Healing in a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity._

- Hippocrates

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	2. i: family

**Full Summary**:

Victoria Black has grown up with the belief she and her mother were the only ones in the world. As they lived in the United States, the two of them managed to live a decent life. When tragedy struck, she's forced to leave her old life. Now in a new country, she'll have to start anew. New school, new friends and possibly a run into her convicted father. This is her story as she lives through the most important and dark times of the wizarding world.

**Author's Note**:

_{August 28 2011 - I'm re-editing this story with the wonderful help of elizaye}_

This story is a sequel to my one-shot "A Single Moment." Naturally this story will have its own plot and certain AU elements with the promise of not distorting the characters you all know. If you are familiar with my stories, then you will know that I always try to keep everything as realistic as possible. This story is no exception.

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**I: family**

_Life's a journey, not a destination._

- Aerosmith "Amazing"

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It was the beginning of a summer storm.

The drops that spiraled down clashed against the solid earth, forming little explosions that splattered against the hard surface. The ground was no longer dry, but a sponge that soaked in what the sky drop forth. A strong wind stirred the tree branches from afar, shook the clinging leaves; the air slowly wafted in the scent of rain that only nature could produce.

Raindrops continued to fall before Victoria's eyes as the strong wind caressed her face; her hair stirred behind her, its strands free of the bind she slipped off earlier. Her slender, willowy figure stood waiting beneath an awning that protected her from the elements. Dark brown, shoulder-length hair complimented her golden-beige complexion. Her amber colored eyes moved away from the green scenery before her as she looked down at the paved street. There, a stream of water made its way down the middle, the water no longer as clear as it had fallen. Mixed with dirt and grime that it accumulated, it made its way down a road she had never ventured on before.

Then again, the land she now stood on was as foreign as the station she waited on.

The temperature had dropped since she first stepped away from the horde she arrived with. As everyone stayed together through the long distanced trip, the weather remained cool. Now she wore a sky blue hoody she pulled out from her backpack after the group had been transported to England. If the trip had been under different circumstances, she would have looked forward to such a journey; England was a country she only heard and read about, but never stepped on. Not only would visiting the country have been awesome, but the trip to get there was an adventure itself.

All wizarding folks knew and were familiar with the following transportation: flying broomstick, Apparating, Portkey and the Floo Network - all were available for those short distances or within a country. It was a very different style for those who traveled on long distances. The transportation itself was known as a group Apparation, somewhat like a single person who Apparates, only it included more than ten people. Unlike the solo travel where one could literally disappear wherever they're at, a group of people would need to Apparate from a station and within a circular module that was only available within building. Unlike its counterpart, the travel took longer as the large mass moved through thin air. While traveling, the passengers were able to see one another as if they were inside some large bubble.

It had taken five minutes to get from one continent to another, and while they left the country early in the morning, it was already early in the evening when they finally stepped into England's International Wizarding Station. The station, like the one she had left, was crowded.

She had with her a backpack and a small suitcase, the only bags she was allowed to bring with her. This was stated by the 'caregiver', Mrs. Peabody, who was sent over to sort the unfinished business her mother had left _.'Everything you'll need will be provided at your new home' _Peabody had stated. Not only were nearly all her personal effects sold, but everything else her mother worked for - house and all. So the only things she brought with her were the clothes on her back, and those important objects she couldn't part with. Most of all, there was a medium sized box her mother had left for her, a box that was given to her days after her death. A box she had yet to open.

This arrangement that included Mrs. Peabody, and everything else to get her to England, arranged by a person she only heard about. It was unfortunate that this was the only way she could finally meet her grandmother, the only relative she had in the world.

It was a comfort in a strange and awkward way, but numbing when she first received the letter from her.

She never met the woman. Her mother had only spoken about her, had shown her a picture or two of her own parents and nothing more. When Victoria was younger, her mother shared her own tales while growing up. As she herself grew up, those stories stopped. Back then she never thought much about it, but after the recent events in the last couple of days, she realized that something was amiss. For some unexplained reason, her mother ceased to acknowledge her own parents.

She received the first letter from her grandmother a day after her mother passed away. It should have been of some comfort, but as it was the first contact she had made with the woman, the experience was only numbing. The letter itself -two parchments long- informed her that she had heard of the news and as her only living relative, this was the time to come together. It would be the first time in Victoria's thirteen years.

It was hard to believe that everything had happened, as Victoria believed her mother would live to a ripe old age. Her death made Victoria realize that she was truly an orphan. She had no cousins or aunts from either side of the family. Her father died when she was barely one, so there was not much about him that she personally knew about. There were the stories of course, which was enough to give her an image of who her father could have been. There had been pictures of him, but unfortunately those were destroyed in an accidental fire, so her mother said. The only thing she had of him was a golden necklace with a crystal pendant. Carved in monogram near the bottom of it were the first initials of her parents' names. _M & S. _It was a necklace she now carried in her own jewelry box.

Of course Victoria had no say in the matter of moving to a different country, as she was only thirteen and her next birthday wouldn't be until October, three months from now. Since receiving the letter, her grandmother kept her in the loop of the goings on. It was through her that she knew Mrs. Peabody was coming to sort things out and to look over her transfer to England. Had it been her choice, Victoria would have preferred to stay in a country she grew up in rather than the one she only heard about.

Yet there she was, already standing on English soil.

While the weather got noticeably colder, she opted to stay out in the open air. As she crossed her arms, she casually looked at the people who were coming and going. As people were not allowed to Apparate within the building, those in a hurry instantly Apparated into thin air the moment their feet touched outside grounds. Though it was normal for stations to be crowded, this day and those following it,would be bombarded with world travelers.

She caught sight of the advertisement for the Quidditch World Cup when she first broke away from the crowd, but she had long since known about it. Every Quidditch fan knew of the match that would take place in England, and everyone knew that not all were fortunate enough to travel. As before, if it weren't for the situation she was in, she would have been thrilled about the event. Now such feelings seemed foreign to her.

It was in mid-July when it happened.

Victoria had been at a friend's birthday party when she received the unexpected letter from the hospital, had been dropped into her piece of cake by some owl she never seen before. What was inside was the beginning of the end; her life took a drastic turn after that. With her mother's death, a new and uncharted part of her life was about to take place. Days later, she received the most unexpected letter – that from her grandmother.

Mrs. Peabody came into the scene days later to deal, as she had clearly stated with _'adult matters no child should go through.' _If it weren't for her English accent, Victoria would have been insulted by the statement. Two weeks later, after her mother's burial, the house and whatever "business" there was dealt with by her grandmother through Mrs. Peabody. After purchasing an international ticket for her, Peabody left a day early intending to meet Victoria at the station when she arrived.

Obviously Peabody was nowhere to be seen, as it had been twenty minutes since Victoria arrived from the States. After she pulled down her sleeve to cover up the last purchase she made with her mother, she hugged herself again. It was nearing seven pm, and while the world around her was slowing down, she still had plenty of energy left.

She had a feeling she wasn't going to be sleeping for a while.

**X….x….X**

"You can wait right here for Mrs. Avery - I mean your grandmother," Peabody said as she adjusted her coat before she stepping into the hall.

_Sure, I'll wait for my grandmother in her own home,_ Victoria thought, as she placed her bags down by her feet. Pulling her hood off her head, she slowly took in the surrounding foyer. She had grown up in an average two bedroom home, spacious enough for her and her mother. Now here she was, in a house much larger than the one she had left; double floored and surely with more bedrooms than was necessary, this was not just _any _house, but something more. From where she stood, she noticed a full length mirror; it was apparent -to her at least- that it had been placed there for a guest to have a chance to look themselves over before they were presented. To whom, besides the woman who lived in the house, she didn't know, but then Victoria caught herself doing just that.

Placing her hands within the pockets of her dark blue jeans, she awkwardly stood against a sophisticated background. Her hair, which was previously in a loose ponytail, was in disarray thanks to the strong winds and the hoody she had worn. A month ago she would have not looked the way she did now, not as tomboyish at least. Now that she looked back, she couldn't help but let out a scoff. Everything had been put into perspective after her mother's death - after all, her superficial life had been ripped by reality. The life she had lived while her mother was still alive felt as if it belonged to someone else: a happy-go-lucky girl who,literally,had it all except for riches.

The girl she now saw in the mirror was just the opposite - at least inside.

She no longer felt the need to tell those "close" friends where she was going, nor needed a reason to tell her then-boyfriend why she broke up with him through a very simple letter - three sentences to be exact. The clothes she was once happy to show off no longer appealed to her; she dropped them off in a location for needy wizards and witches, and purchased new clothes that were not as eye-catching. She decided if she was to live in a new place, she did not want to call much attention to herself.

The death of a person could do that.

At the clearing of a throat, she looked away from the mirror and to the source of the noise. Standing beside Mrs. Peabody was a tall, regal, elderly woman. The outfit she wore, while common back in the States, was eye-catching, not for its colors, but for its elegancy. Knowing who she was, the dress she wore was surely not a common thing to buy. Her peppered hair, mostly dark, was pulled into a high bun; her facial features were sharp, but appealing even so. Noticing that she had caught Victoria's attention, she turned to the other woman.

"You may leave; we'll speak more of it tomorrow," she spoke. Peabody nodded, adjusting her coat again, and walked past Victoria to exit the mansion, leaving the two of them alone.

Strangers sharing common blood.

"I will have to admit that while writing to you was a fairly easy thing to do, I seem to not be able to come up with anything but the obvious."

"It's sad to know that it took my mother's death to finally have a chance to meet a living relative," Victoria said as she dropped her arms to her sides. She wasn't exactly sure what to say, but she believed what was said would suffice to explain how she felt.

With a slight nod, her grandmother clasped her hands. "I don't expect you to understand, but hopefully you will look past this error and see me as your grandmother."

_A stranger but with a family title_, she thought as she stood there. Feeling scrutinized, Victoria looked away.

"I can see it in you; you carry the blood of both families and with it the attitude as well." Her grandmother said, and that caught Victoria's attention. Instead of seeing a look of distaste, she believed she saw a hint of a smile. "You are blessed to hold the characteristics that separate you from the common witch. You are genuinely a Pureblood. Hopefully you knew that."

As before, if this were to have happened under different circumstances, she would have been pleased. All she could muster now was a simplethank you.

"I'm sure you'll miss living in America, but I assure you you'll feel right at home here."

Victoria merely nodded.


	3. ii: journal & letter

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**II: Journal & Letter**

_It is not a bad idea to get in the habit of writing down one's thoughts._

_ It saves one having to bother anyone else with them._

- Isabel Colegate

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"I'm sure by tomorrow you'll be used to the time difference," Victoria's grandmother said as she stood outside her bedroom for the second time. "I'm sure sleep will not come as quickly due to the difference, so I bought something for you." With the snap of her fingers, a house elf appeared.

As common as they were back in the States, Victoria always found them fascinating, both in mannerism and the way they -when spoken to- conversed. This house elf that belonged to her grandmother was two feet tall, wearing a white clean cloth. Normally one would know the gender of a house elf once their name was called out, but as her grandmother had trained it, she had yet to hear its name. Standing straight, the house elf handed over to its mistress what appeared to be a notebook of some sorts.

"When I was your age and had time for myself, I would take a journal and write down my thoughts," her grandmother voiced, as she held the book in her hand. "I'm sure it'll help you out during these times; with the time difference here, you can take the advantage to start a page or two."

Earlier, after a brief tour of the home, her grandmother led her back to what was to be her permanent bedroom. Being that it was thirty minutes past ten, Victoria assumed the reason she was led back to her room was due to her grandmother wanting to retire for the night. Now it was apparent this was all done for her to receive the journal. As she took the journal from her grandmother, the house-elf left their presence.

"Thanks," Victoria said as she held the journal.

"Well then, I shall see you tomorrow morning. Make sure to get some sleep, even if it's a nap; it'll help you feel refreshed."

"I will," Victoria replied before she bid her grandmother goodnight as she closed the door after her retreating form.

Victoria turned to face the room, and for the second time that night she took in the sight. Standing in the middle of the room was a queen-sized, canopied bed, its sheets white with pillows arranged from largest to the smallest. There were two windows in the room, one facing the north wall and the other the west, and both were covered with a white sheer curtain. A desk was set up against one of the windows and opposite from it was a smaller room which was to be her personal bathroom.

As she walked over to her bags that were placed at the foot of her bed, Victoria pulled up her backpack and walked over to the desk. Setting the bag on the chair, she turned the knob of the candle lamp. As sleep had not crossed her mind, she decided to take the time to settle her desk with the little she had brought. Opening the pack she pulled out those belongings that could be placed out in the open. Amongst them, she brought along a small polished oak box that contained those pieces she cherished. After setting the box alongside the photo album she brought along, she pulled up her left sleeve.

Victoria had always known she was a pureblood, a title not many witches and wizards held in this day and age. Through her mother, she had been told of the beliefs the Averys held; such beliefs were not foreign back in the States. One of those was that those who were not of pureblood descent were to be looked down upon, while the others were to be despised. The "others" being Muggles. People who had no magical abilities were as low as the lowest creature. And she came to learn the people who held such beliefs were mostly those of "high society."

There was a possibility that her grandmother held such beliefs; she must have known that her daughter -Victoria's mother- did not share the Avery's belief, which in turn, meant that, she as the granddaughter wouldn't hold it either. As she did not want to push the boundaries just yet, Victoria decided that it would be wise to put away whatever Muggle objects she owned, which included the last gift her mother had given to her.

On her left wrist, a silver wristwatch was snugly in its place. Its oval faceplate showed off silver hands that ticked off the hours and minutes. Pressing a finger against the glass faceplate, Victoria sighed. While she had been given the occasional Muggle gift by friends, the cherished watch was the only one she'd kept. Turning her wrist upward, she undid the clasp before placing it between her keepsakes within the box.

After she placed her backpack beside her chair, she took a seat on its empty spot. The empty journal sat in front of her, a dry quill on the side waiting to be used. Victoria looked away from it and faced the darkness of her window. While she had been given a brief tour of her home -a manor-, she had yet to see what was behind the house. What she did know was that the window she stared out faced the front, which should give her a nice view but as it was night, there was not much to see. Not even the moon was shining, much less the stars. The only thing she could see was a faint reflection of herself along with that of the lamp.

As Victoria took hold of the quill, she uncapped the inkbottle and dipped the end into the black liquid. Though she never owned a journal -was never interested in writing what she knew- she had decided to give writing a try.

_8/29_

_I'm not exactly sure how to start this._

_Am I supposed to write about me? About my life as of now? Just writing all that would be tiring, besides this is not a book everyone will read so there's no need for introductions. I suppose the recent updates will do - that's what keeping a journal is about, right?_

_Besides, I'm not big on writing._

_Here's a rundown of what has happened in the last two to three hours:_

_6:40 pm - 7ish - Arrived in England. Waited 20 mins. Before Peabody (temp. caregiver) picked me up._

_7ish - 8ish - Met my estranged grandmother from my mother's side. Took 13 -will soon be 14- years to finally meet her. During the tour of "my" new home, she told me about "the family." I'm only the direct descendant of the Averys', didn't mention the family of my father's side. It was noticeable she didn't want to speak about them. Which should be something of an interest, as my surname is not that of my grandparents. I wonder how she'll go about explaining that to whoever asks about me?_

_8ish - 9ish - Had my first supper in the Avery's manor. Didn't dine in the large dining room, but a small room that was similar to my -once- dining room back home. More talk about the "goings on" in society. Briefly mentioned my mother. I did not enjoy eating with this woman._

_9ish - now - Sitting in my new bedroom. Way larger than the one I used to own. I feel out of place here. Currently writing in the journal grandmother has given me. Sleep does not come to mind. What am I supposed to do for the next couple of hours?_

Dropping the quill in the middle of the opened journal, Victoria pushed herself away from the desk and made her way to the bathroom.

**X….x….X**

The first thing Victoria heard was the fluttering, but it was not enough to stir her awake. Then she felt a light breeze caress her and that caught her attention as she fluttered her eyes open. As she was facing the door, she noticed it was closed but she took this moment to look around in that particular side and could see that nothing was amiss. Lazily, she turned onto her back and stared up at the sheer covering of the canopy before she turned her head towards the window. As she assumed, she had forgotten to close the window. Somehow the nap -she'd had nothing else to do at the time- had gone longer than she expected. Still in her day clothes and luckily without her shoes, she managed to sleep after all, albeit forgetting to shut the window. And since there were no screens on the windows to keep the pests out, there was a possibility that something was in the room with her.

As she sat up, entwined with the top sheet she slept on, she looked around the room. At first she had not noticed the owl until the second time she swept the room; nearly blending in with the desk, the brown owl fluttered its wings as it stared straight at her. It was perched on the back of the desk chair, its claws firmly gripping the wooden, glossy edge. In its beak was an envelope, which meant that the letter was for her. As if the owl had taken notice of her staring, it had dropped the envelope on the floor before it took its flight out of the room.

"Couldn't you be a bit nicer and drop it off on the bed? Stupid bird," Victoria muttered as she untangled herself from the sheets.

Just as she pulled the sheets off of herself, she noticed the box she brought with her sitting at the edge of the bed. It was then that she remembered earlier, before she took that nap, she had taken it out from the bottom of her backpack. She had not had the heart to open it back home, seeing as it was something that was "requested" to be given to her if her mother passed away unexpectedly. She stretched herself toward it, picked it up and placed it on her lap. There was no key or special instructions to open the box, which could only mean that her mother meant for her to use a simple spell. Feeling the surface with her fingertips, she decided to open it once there was nothing to do in this new household. Not wanting to leave the small chest in the open, she decided to hide it under the bed.

After a couple of stretches, she made her way towards the envelope in her socks. As she bent down to pick up the letter, she noticed the address on the front. While she wasn't yet familiar with the address of her new home, she knew that whoever it was that had sent it knew very well where she was residing AND in which part of the house. As she turned it around, she saw a crimson wax seal, and on it was the imprint of a coat of arms, distinctively surrounding the crest was a readable name: Hogwarts.

She had heard of the school - after all, the headmaster was as well known as… the Quidditch World Cup. While the school name she knew of, there was not much else she could come up the fact that it was where her parents had met, so her mother said. Other than that: nothing. Breaking the seal, she pulled out the letter.

"…enclosed is the list of the necessary books and supplies," she finished muttering. Then she turned the parchment around to see if there was any other information. Seeing none, she looked into the envelope to see the aforementioned list. Everything on it she knew about - too bad she was forced to leave her school belongings, except for her wand, back home. Folding the letter, she slipped it back inside before she placed it on the desk.

So it had been settled - she would be attending Hogwarts. There was no response needed; her grandmother -or was it Peabody?- sorted out her transfer. School would begin on the first of September, which only left two days. Hopefully it wouldn't be too different from her old school. The subjects shouldn't be; she was fairly knowledgeable with the majority of them. As a new school year began, she would be attending as a fourth year.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Victoria responded as she turned the letter face up on her desk. Who would it be that would know she was already awake? With a familiar pop in the air, her answer now stood a foot away.

It was the same house elf she saw last night. "Will the missus be going downstairs to eat her breakfast?"

"I'll be taking a shower; I'll be downstairs in about twenty." Victoria responded, as she walked over to one of the wardrobes. Earlier that day, before she fell asleep, she had thoroughly examined her room, and like a hotel, everything was already in its place.

After she rummaged drawers of the wardrobe she discovered towels. "By the way, what is your name?"

"Oh!" it squeaked. It appeared to her that the house elf was rarely asked about itself, which would explain why it reacted the way it did. "Tila, at your service." She bowed, one thin arm behind her back and the other across her chest. "Mistress does not call Tila by name. How would you like to call Tila by?"

Snapping a finger in the air wasn't a bad option, but Victoria decided to go with the traditional way. As her grandmother did not acknowledge how she should call the house elf, she was sure she wouldn't mind if she called it by its name. "Tila."

Her bright, large eyes appeared to have perked up by Victoria's choice. As before, Tila bowed again. "Whatever the missus likes, she only needs to call Tila. Tila will do what missus will like."

So the house elf knew who Victoria was, or she wouldn't be offering her services to her. "Well, I should get to my shower. I'll be downstairs in a bit."

With that the house elf nodded and popped into thin air.

**X….x….X**

Wearing a pair of black hip hugger jeans and a red t-shirt would only draw attention she had previously hoped to avoid, but perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to start off looking a bit "out of place." At least then she wasn't calling attention for others to admire her as she had previously done. After drying her hair with a towel, she brushed it into a ponytail. While girls her age dabbled with barely-there makeup Victoria had no need of it - with a simple lip-gloss she was ready to go. Now, she could care less whether her lips were kissable or not; this time around, she'd try to focus on other things besides the superficial parts of life.

As Victoria stepped out of her room, with letter in hand, she closed her bedroom door. Since her room was the last one down the hall, she was required to walk down a not-so-short hallway. This side of the house, from what she gathered, could be considered the left wing. This was the side, as she was told, that held the extra rooms, which included her bedroom. Her grandmother's room was located in the right wing, so if she were to have snuck away, she would not have been caught. She wondered, as she walked past closed doors and framed paintings -all showing landscapes- whether any of these rooms had belonged to her mother.

Holding onto the banister as she descended the stairs, Victoria looked upon the paintings that covered the wall. The majority of them were portraits with the occasional landscape, similar to those she saw in the hall. Some of them involved people minding their business while others curiously peered back at her. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she came upon a painting of a girl who stood in the middle of a green field a bucket of wildflowers between her hands.

"Good morning, Miss Victoria," the girl in the painting greeted her.

"Good morning," came a voice from elsewhere.

Whirling around, Victoria saw her grandmother standing in the middle of the foyer. "It's good to see that you've…" she halted, as she looked over Victoria, "woken up in time."

There was an unmistakable look that crossed the woman's face, a look Victoria easily recognized. A look she usually received from a rival back in her old school and while this situation was obviously different, Victoria could easily surmise what it meant: distaste for what she wore.

"I've received the Hogwarts letter," Victoria started, trying to ease into whatever it was her grandmother planned on saying. "I'll have to purchase new school materials."

A faint smile formed upon her grandmother's lips. "Not only new school materials, but new clothes as well."

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Review?


	4. iii: of old ways and names

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**III: Of Old Ways and Names**

_'Love me or hate me, but spare me your indifference.'_

- Libbie Fudim

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The first time Victoria found out to whom she was related, she had been excited.

Avery, as her mother revealed, was not a very common surname, such as Smith or Walter. If anyone else held it, there was a high possibility they were connected to the 'old family' back in Britain. It was a name distinguishable in society.

Now, she wasn't all that thrilled.

After hearing the brief but straightforward comments concerning her taste in clothes, Victoria knew her stay in the Avery household would not be normal. Normal in the sense that she would no longer be able to function as casually as she once did when her mother was around. Why she believed it would be amazing to live in a society she only heard about, she would never know. Perhaps if the event that took place had NOT occurred, she would have seen the situation differently. Before, she was all about being seen and envied. Now she preferred to be left alone, to no longer "work up" the superficiality she had lived in. Her world was no longer about roses, not after her mother's death.

As she had been briefly lectured on the ways of the clothes, as Victoria called it, her grandmother told her one important rule.

_'When you present yourself to society, you represent your family's name'_

It said it all.

Her grandmother was set in keeping the traditions - which she barely knew of- and not letting her step out of line. Last night's clothes? _'It was a drastic change of scenery, so it was expected of you to look dowdy with the clothes you wore.' _Because the move required for her to sell off her belongings her grandmother took the chance to admit that it was for the best, as she was surely _'raised amongst common people_.' So the clothes Victoria wore were not of her taste and as an Avery -she had not acknowledged her given surname- she was required to keep the family name _'blemish-free.' _This led her to the next subject in her agenda.

It was Victoria's official "first" day in England and her grandmother informed her they would spend the day _'to sort out what is necessary. While at it, purchase what is needed._' She mentioned that Diagon Alley was the place to go. After being informed of her schedule of the day, Victoria was then allowed to go have her breakfast.

When they first arrived in Diagon Alley, Victoria couldn't believe how busy and crowded it was. And though she looked forward to the stops they would make while in Diagon Alley, she couldn't shake off a comment her grandmother had made earlier.

_'Now keep close; I want to preserve your anonymity until due time.'_

Surely she meant about her identity as the granddaughter, but why wait until "due time"? So far she had met Peabody, but she had yet to meet her grandfather, who happened to be away on some business trip. While she knew how celebrities were always photographed out in public, she was sure her grandparents did not fall under that category. Since that was not the case, that could only mean Victoria's grandparents never approved her mother's marriage to her father. Which in itself would explain why her grandmother never mentioned the Black family. Her Hogwarts letter was addressed to her given name - a Black and not an Avery. So how difficult was it to introduce her to anyone who asked, unless it was the name itself that made it difficult?

It was a question she would have asked had it not been for the fact the person who knew was practically a stranger. Victoria did not consider herself a timid individual, which would not have worked in her "world" before everything changed. She was an observer; she knew when to speak and when to shut up. This new life she lived in was different. Victoria needed to know of the boundaries before she could trespass them; she did not expect the clothes she wore to stir her grandmother's cauldron, but now that she knew what was "unacceptable" she knew what to do. Perhaps Victoria's grandmother had summed her up as a quiet, obedient girl, which was not an unfavorable idea so as long as she wasn't considered naïve. If a situation arose that required her "old self" to show, she'd let it. Until then, she'd continue with this new "quiet persona."

The first stop they were to make before stepping into any of the shops was Gringotts Bank. Back home she had no personal vault, but her mother had one, one that Peabody surely would have looked over. Perhaps the reason Victoria and her grandmother were here was to transfer whatever amount her mother had from her old bank to this one? Either way, the building they stepped in was one that stood out from the center of Diagon Alley. The white, large marble building with its many steps that led to the front door had first caught her attention. There had been two goblins that were guarding the front, and when they passed by, Victoria could sense their black eyes peering through her.

Once inside, there was nothing too different from the one back in the States. Goblins ran the place, all separated into their own tellers, which were practically occupied by witches and wizards. When their time came to speak with one of them, Victoria was then told their reason for stopping first at Gringotts.

When her mother had left the country, she was not allowed to take all the money from her vault. Now, with her mother's passing, Victoria was to inherit the vault as her own, along with the amount that was transferred from the old bank. For that to happen, they -that meant Victoria and her grandmother- needed to prove they were related to the deceased individual. Her grandmother had the key to her mother's vault, which solved one part of the requirements and Victoria's presence served the other. With magic that only goblins could decipher, the one that attended them deemed her as the sole heir of the contents that resided inside the vault. After a short trip in the caves, where all vaults were located, they finally stopped at the one they came for.

Twenty minutes later, the two of them stepped out of the bank. Her grandmother had not changed much from when they first entered, but Victoria came out with enough galleons she'd need for shopping and for her school year. Surprisingly, she had more money to her name than she could ever dream of. Frankly, she felt odd about it.

**X….x….X**

"One would believe with the Quidditch Cup starting in a couple of hours, Diagon Alley would be practically deserted," her grandmother commented after they stepped out from Flourish & Blotts.

It had nearly been an hour since they left Gringotts, and they had just finished purchasing the last school materials she needed. While the bookstore was filled with people, the other shops they had left, such as the Cauldron shop, had been practically empty; Victoria did not mind bustling about when it came to shopping, but just like her grandmother, she didn't enjoy the crowds.

"The Cup happens every four years, if they have their spot reserved they'll dash fifteen minutes before the game begins," Victoria said, as she held her books that were bound together by a simple-looking white string. "Have you been to any games yourself?"

Her grandmother started walking as she answered, "The last time I attended the game with your grandfather was nearly fourteen years ago. It's a two-day celebration that ends on the 31st of this month, a day before your schooling begins; if it were under different circumstances, we -your grandfather and I- would have taken you. I do believe you need to first familiarize yourself with your books and schedule, as I'm sure the agenda is quite different from the one across the pond. There'll be other chances where you'll be able to attend that sporting event."

"Here we are, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. We'll purchase your school robes here, and once you get sorted, you'll be sent your official colors," she said, as they stopped in front of the store window.

Unlike the previous shops they ventured in, the bookstore and the one they stood before were next door to each other. Like any other clothing shop, the mannequins were on display in the store windows. The one they were looking at showed off black robes with uniformed clothing underneath. While Victoria wasn't sure what her grandmother meant by _"sorted and official colors," _her attention was caught by the uniforms.

In her old school, they were allowed to wear everyday clothing… as long as they weren't inappropriate. Which at times she had broken, but that was what she had done to keep her popularity up. Now in Hogwarts, it appeared she was to wear navy blue colored uniforms on a daily schedule, not to mention a colored necktie. Looking past them into the shop, she could see it was not as crowded as the bookstore.

Turning away from the window, she saw her grandmother already opening the door for herself. Picking up her pace, Victoria managed to catch the door before it closed on her.

"Good day Mrs. Avery, come about for a new robe?" A sweet-sounding voice was the first Victoria heard as she slowly walked up to her grandmother's side.

Standing a foot away from her stood a friendly, squat woman. A yellow measuring tape hung around her shoulders. While pins were sticking out of a small pointed hat that sat atop graying hair.

"I do not come for myself, but for my granddaughter."

_'So the anonymity begins to strip away_.' Victoria thought as she gave the witch a barely-there smile.

The woman had a look of surprise as she quickly glanced between her and her grandmother. "Marissa's? _Oh_, I haven't seen her for some time! How is she doing?"

It should have been uncomfortable - the question itself should have taken her aback, but Victoria gave the woman a calm reply. "She passed away."

She could sense her grandmother's glance - she had obviously not expected Victoria to answer.

That changed the woman's demeanor. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear about that. I'm sure that it must have been hard for you and your father to g-"

"The two of them tragically passed away," her grandmother interrupted, her tone of voice changing. It was apparent that she did not want to talk about such matters with the witch. "We're here to purchase the required robes for Hogwarts."

With a nervous chuckle, she clasped her hands together. "Well then, that can easily be arranged. I'm with another student. Perhaps Miss…"

"Black." Victoria quickly completed.

Either it was her eyes playing a trick on her, or she had seen the woman attention perk up once more by the mention of her surname. Either way, her grandmother had cleared her throat as she did this, which caused the witch to nod briskly at Victoria.

"Right, will you please follow me to the back, where we'll get you measured for the right robes," the witch said as she gestured for Victoria to follow her.

"Before you go, perhaps you might want to leave your books with me?" her grandmother asked, her voice firm.

"I'll meet you in the back, dear," the witch said as she left the two of them alone.

As Victoria was about to hand over her bundle of books, her grandmother placed a firm hand on her shoulder, pulling her close. "I know this is not the place to talk about it and that I should have told you sooner as well, but I suggest that you should restrain yourself from using your father's name," she whispered, and just as Victoria was about to step aside to look at her, she felt her grandmother's hand tighten. "I'm doing you a favor, Victoria; I know you don't understand it now, but I suggest you start introducing yourself as an Avery."


	5. iv: someone new something true

******::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**IV: Someone New, Something True**

_Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee and just as hard to sleep after._  
- Anne Morrow Lindbergh

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"Why?" Victoria demanded as she pulled herself away from her grandmother's grip. No longer standing beside the woman, she faced her. "I'm a Black. My parents married each other—naturally I should hold my father's name." What was this about? Why would her grandmother ask her to stop using the Black name?

_It would explain why the witch looked surprised for a second before she cleared her throat…_ Furrowing her eyebrows, Victoria looked up at the woman. "It's about my father, isn't it?"

Victoria couldn't read her; her grandmother's features were like stone as the woman looked back at her. A couple of uncomfortable seconds passed before she answered. "As I said,Victoria," her tone sharper, "this is not the place to speak about family matters. Now I suggest you go get yourself measured; we don't have all day to dawdle in this shop."

This was not the way she envisioned her grandmother to be. While Victoria was taken aback by her presence when she first met her, she appeared to be a nice individual she could see herself living with. After she had grown up without a grandmother, Victoria expected to make a connection that only grandparents could give. Granted, she had just met her and within that short time -hours- it would be impossible to really know a person. Victoria believed the lecture about her clothes was just part of old-style mannerism, a habit she could easily live with. So far, her grandmother was showing a side Victoria wasn't all too keen with. Was it even right to call her _grandmother_, when she was but a stranger to her?

As Victoria turned around to leave, she heard the woman calling her name again. Biting her lower lip, she faced her. This time, she saw a hand stretched out towards her. "Books."

For a minute there Victoria had forgotten she was even holding them. Taking a step forward, she handed over the bundle of books. Without another word, Victoria made her way to the back of the shop.

While there were plenty of robes around, she finally came to see the spot where the witch was attending to the first customer. Since the witch had her back turned, Victoria couldn't see the girl who was being attended to, despite the mirrors flanking the platform.

"There you go, Miss Parkinson," the witch said, stepping aside.

Standing there was a dark haired girl with shoulder length hair; the black robe she wore enveloped her body, and only the back of her shoes were exposed. Turning here and there, the girl appeared to be satisfied with what she wore.

"Oh, Miss Bl-"

"Avery," Victoria interrupted with an apologetic smile.

Clearing her throat, the witch nodded a bit too quickly. "You may step up the second platform while I finish attending to my customer."

Nodding, Victoria walked up the two steps of the low-lying platform.

"I never knew the Averys had a granddaughter."

Victoria turned to face the girl who no longer wore the black robe - in its place she wore something that was casual but sophisticated-looking. The girl was around her age, and Victoria could easily distinguish an attitude by the way she held herself on the platform. Though pretty, Victoria could tell the girl was not the kind of person who easily got along with everyone. Frankly, she looked snobbish but then again, she herself would know - after all, she once was one of them.

With her arms crossing her chest, the girl looked directly at her. "You _are _related to Rudolf and Lucretia Avery?"

"Who's asking?" Victoria replied, not thrilled to share her personal history with a stranger.

The girl smirked. "I'll take that as a yes. Name's Pansy Parkinson, and you are…?"

Victoria wondered if she'd ever get used to hearing the British accent of this kind. Normally such condescending manners would have put Victoria off, but as Pansy was the first person she'd encountered who was like her, well, she couldn't help but be slightly amused.

"Victoria."

"Do you go by that or do you shorten it?"

"Victoria to everyone else," she answered as she crossed her arms.

"Is that so?" Pansy said, more of a statement than a question. "I suppose that's fair." A second or two of silence, and she followed with another question. "So what's with the clothes?"

Victoria shrugged. "Just felt like being myself; I'm not much of a follower, as you can probably tell. I suppose not many have the nerve to stand out this way," she stopped, but quickly added, "Of course you have a nice look going on. Sophistication is a fabulous way to go, that is if you'll like to play it safe, which there's nothing wrong with."

The girl chortled, as she dropped her arms to adjust her top. "That's a nice way of saying it."

At that moment,the witch who attended to Pansy came along, and she was not alone. With her was Victoria's grandmother, who was speaking with a woman who looked remarkably like Pansy. While the witch went around carrying what appeared to be a robe, the woman –whom Victoria assumed to be Pansy's mother- glanced at her while speaking with Victoria's grandmother.

"Welcome to the country, Victoria. I'm Pansy's mother. I see you have already met." The woman walked up to the platform and without Victoria offering a hand, Mrs. Parkinson took it to shake. While she looked up at her, she commented, "you're a very lovely girl; you'll certainly have to be careful around the boys at school." She winked as she turned back to Victoria's grandmother.

A brief smile crossed Pansy's face, before she herself greeted Victoria's grandmother.

"We've been talking and see that the two of us have the same destination, shopping!" Mrs. Parkinson continued with a quick sharp laugh. "So I thought it would be a splendid idea if you two go together, that way you would already know someone in Hogwarts and at the same year at that!"

_'While we are at it, we can all have some tea,'_ Victoria thought as she smiled before she turned to Pansy who nearly parroted her mother's statement. Thankfully, the witch just arrived in time to get her measured for her new school robes.

**X….x….X**

Half of the clothes she had once purchased with her mother were from Muggle shops, not that she didn't enjoy the clothes the wizarding world offered. The clothes she currently wore were of a Muggle brand. So while the two of them were shopping in a store that offered clothing for people their ages, Victoria had to lie about the shop's name when Pansy inquired about the style of her pants. In the end, the clothes she had purchased remained simple but not as eye catching - exactly as she had planned on doing.

So far, Pansy had been vocal on what her taste and beliefs were; as Victoria had assumed, she was a girl who did not talk with everyone else. Which, in turn, made Victoria wonder whether she was only being talked to because she was an Avery. Speaking to Pansy was not different nor did it bother her - in fact, she could actually _see _herself being friends with her.

After they had walked aimlessly, Pansy invited Victoria for a scoop of ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Since all outdoor tables were occupied, and seeing as they had about twenty minutes before they were to leave to their respective places, they continued their stroll through the alley.

"I just have to ask, but who's your father? I mean, I know the Averys had a daughter, and it isn't common for the wife to hold her family name and not take that of her husband."

"You're definitely intruding," Victoria whispered under her breath before she took a small spoonful of strawberry ice cream. "He's a Black, if you want to know his family name."

That stopped Pansy in her tracks. Taking hold of her arm, she pulled Victoria toward the front of a store. "_The _Blacks? _The _Black family who no longer exists?"

Pulling her arm away from Pansy's grip, Victoria placed her bag beside her feet as she curiously looked back at her. "Yes,_'The'_ Blacks. What's with the shocked reaction?"

With a smirk, Pansy answered. "Everyone around here knows about them. Let's just say that one of the sons has a _dire _reputation." As if an idea had dawned on her, she added, "Your father is not _Sirius Black_, is he?"

This was all new to her. All she had been told about her father was that he was a Black and had died in an accident when she was a little over a year old. Both of her parents had moved to the States when she was barely a year old. Like her mother, he was an only child. The people Pansy about whom was speaking could not be related to her father.

"Of course not," Victoria assured. "He passed away when I was young; we lived in the States then. Besides, he was an only child just like my mother was. This Sirius Black that you mentioned has a brother."

It was Pansy's turn to look at her curiously. "I suppose that's possible, but Black isn't a rare surname. Perhaps you _are _related to them, like a second cousin or something." Pansy looked back down at her empty cup of ice cream before she placed it within a basket, a product that was displayed in front of shop. "So why did you introduce yourself as an Avery, when you yourself are a Black?"

"Do you _always _drill everyone?" Victoria asked as her questions were annoying her.

"Drill?"

"Question, interrogate, et cetera…?"

Pansy shrugged. "Because I can _and _because you can clearly state that I should mind my own bloody business," she said with a cheeky grin.

"So who's this Sirius Black you've mentioned?"

"He's a murderer. He's a follower of You-Know-Who. You do _know _who he is, right?"

Victoria nodded, still holding her cup of ice cream. "Any important news that happens here is heard everywhere." She stopped, as she tried to recall any news about a Sirius Black. "I suppose I have heard about him, I'm just not that big on following the news."

"Right, well you should know that he escaped from Azkaban last year, the only one to ever do so. It has been whispered that he was in Hogsmeade and some even speculated he had broken into Hogwarts!" At this Pansy looked around. "Up to this day he's still on the loose; I'm sure there's a wanted poster of him around here. Oh! Follow me."

Picking up her shopping bag, Victoria made her way around the crowd as she followed the girl's trail. A minute later, she stood in front of a bulletin board while Pansy looked though the announcements. A second or so later, she yanked off two sheets of parchment to reveal a wanted poster.

"There you go. The picture was obviously taken right before he was thrown into Azkaban. Was quite attractive, wouldn't you agree? It is said he was even You-know-who's right hand."

In the poster, the man held a small board with numbers and strange symbols. If this man was the look of insanity, she couldn't see it. Then again, if he was the Dark Wizard's right hand, then he could easily have played the role of a victim. "I think it's time I should meet up with my grandmother."

Pansy snorted. "Wouldn't have pegged you for goody-two-shoes with being punctual, but sure, whatever."

"I'm not. I just want to keep up the good granddaughter act, that way I _gain _the confidence, you know?" If this was the way she was supposed to act, then she would not have a hard time fitting in. After all, she would only need to slip back into her old self.

"I can actually see you fitting in with us in school," was all she heard from Pansy.

**X….x….X**

After Tila had taken her purchases up to her bedroom, Victoria pondered whether she should follow through with her curiosity or ignore it. All this stemmed from the little incident back in Malkin's shop. Her grandmother clearly cut her off when she askedwhyshe should use the Avery name and not her own. Spending the latter half of her shopping experience with Pansy had only postponed this encounter.

Quickly, Victoria walked down the hall and managed to catch sight of her grandmother stepping into an open room. Slowing down, she adjusted her shirt before she entered after her. The room was a sitting room or what she would have called a living room; like the rest of the house, this one was decorated in the same style. Ignoring the little details, she set her sights on her grandmother that stood in front of a fireplace. With a flick of her wand, the woman lit it up.

"Is there something you need?"

"I-I," Victoria cleared her throat. "I would like to know why I should stop using my dad's name. I have noticed you haven't spoken about his family, much less mentioned his name. This made me wonder if it was something he has done. Mom said he led a normal life and died when I was around a year old, so I didn't have the luxury of spending any time with him. I doubt he would have done anything that would shame this family or his." She stopped as she observed her grandmother's back. "Even if there's a possibility that he's related to Sirius Black, that doesn't mean I should stop using his name.

So, while I do appreciate the concern, I would like to keep going by as a Black - my only way of keeping his memory," Victoria finished as she carefully observed her grandmother.

Still with her back toward Victoria, the woman responded. "I suppose you have the right to ask those questions, have the right to know the truth about your parents."

_Truth?_ Victoria questioned to herself as she stepped forward. "Wha-"

"We never approved of the relationship between your mother and father, and it was unpleasant to hear that they had eloped when they were only eighteen years of age. While the Black family was as prominent as the Avery, we -your grandfather and I- knew that Marissa was making a mistake by marrying him." Her grandmother stopped and turned to face Victoria. As the fire burned from behind her, her face was hidden by her own shadow. "He was not much for rules- how could he when he betrayed his own family for such…_ridiculous _beliefs. Beliefs that clearly went against the ones the Averys held. I don't know what stories your mother fed you to make your father look like a good man, but I can tell that your parents never left together for America."

Victoria's eyebrows furrowed, her thoughts running in such a pace that she couldn't pick out what to say first. This was not the way she imagined her curiosity to be placated, not by being told something that her mother had never spoken about.

"It was on October thirty-first when it happened."

"Thirty-first?" Victoria asked, her thoughts taken hold by a date she was familiar with. "Halloween?"

"The day he murdered more than a dozen people in plain sight."

The familiarity of those words fell upon her like a bagful of rocks. Victoria opened her mouth to speak but could not produce a sound. Looking away, she took hold of the closest chair as she steadied herself.

It can't be,she thought as she gripped the back of the chair with both hands,he couldn't be…

"Sirius Black, the mass murderer of both Muggles and wizards alike," was all her grandmother needed to say.


	6. v: somewhere

**In the last chapter. . .**  
What an eventful day Victoria had so far in the last chapter. Not only had she met Pansy Parkinson but to top it all, the true identity of her father was revealed to her.

* * *

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**V: Somewhere**

_Every truth has two sides; it is well to look at both, before we commit ourselves to either._

-Aesop

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"No," Victoria breathed as she turned to face her grandmother. Even in the dim lighting, Victoria was positive her grandmother held her gaze on her. "His name was Septimus. He wo-"

"I don't know what your mother had told you, and I'm sure she believed she was doing the right thing," her grandmother interrupted, her voice no longer stern but soft as though she were explaining something to a young child. "The two of you were the only ones who left this country the following day; it had happened so quickly, she had not even stopped by to tell us where she was going."

There was nothing Victoria could say, nothing that could come close to expressing what she felt. If this was the reason why her mother had no desire to visit her homeland, then what she was being told now could only be the truth. It would explain why she rarely heard about her father, or why there weren't even pictures of him. Most of all, it would explain why her mother had cut herself off from this part of the world.

Yet, it was her grandmother's version against her mother's - a person she loved and known.

"I am left to believe my mother has been lying to me all this time?" Victoria asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It has taken nearly thirteen years to finally meet, I ca-"

"Perhaps…" Victoria accosted, "this is merely a ploy of yours so I can accept the Avery name without question?"

Silence.

It was one thing that could be interpreted in different ways, but Victoria knew. She knew this kind of silence very well. She knew she had crossed the line by accusing her grandmother.

"You are out of line, Victoria, but I believe I should let it pass as I'm sure you are hurt by what you're hearing." As her grandmother said this, she snapped her fingers, and a second later Tila appeared between the two of them. "Bring the small oak box atop of my desk from my study," she ordered, and with a nod, Tila disappeared.

"I don't understand why you're doing this; I've come here to ask why I should not keep his name, and you tell me I'm related to this…_murderer_? That my mother had been lying to me all this time?" Victoria said, exasperated as she pushed herself away from the chair. "I-I can't just stand here and listen to you tell lies about the only person whom I _know_,the person whom I have _lived _with." Victoria clenched her fists, dropping them to her sides in frustration as there was no other way she could express herself to an adult without offending her.

"This is no ploy of mine, simply a suggestion, but if you highly insist on using your father's name then it leaves me no choice but to grant it," was all Victoria heard.

Once again her grandmother pulled out her wand and lit up the candles in the room, her face no longer hidden by her own shadow. Tila soon appeared and in her hand was the box she was sent for. After the house elf had left, Victoria watched as her grandmother pulled out what appeared to be a photograph from the box.

"As you are aware of Sirius, I will assume you will recognize him in this picture…" she stretched out her hand toward Victoria, the piece of photograph held between her index and thumb, "as well as your mother."

Victoria stared at her cautiously, before she glanced down at the graying white colored back of what was the picture. Gingerly, she took it from her but not before glancing between it and the woman. Once she flipped the picture, she couldn't believe who she was seeing. There was nothing else she could say, not when the truth was in her face.

"There's more within this box, which I feel is yours to keep."

Victoria couldn't pull herself to look away from the picture.

"I will leave you alone now."

Victoria let her walk away, as she was still staring at the image before her.

There was a group of people in the photo and while all of them were strangers, her eyes zoomed to a pretty, young-looking woman: her mother. She couldn't be older than twenty-three in the picture. Her hair had been longer, her smile genuine and her attention, while exchanging glances with a couple next to her, was mostly on the man and the baby he held. There was no denying it, the man who was standing beside her mother was the same one she had she had seen on the wanted poster: Sirius Black himself. That only meant the baby girl he was holding was none other than Victoria herself.

"This can't be," she groaned, her eyes suddenly swelling with tears. "Why…" she muttered as she looked on, "wouldn't you tell me?" she asked. Biting her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out, she turned to look at the box that was left behind. Without hesitating, she picked it up and made her way out of the room.

**X….x….X**

_8/30_

_Tila brought my supper up to my room (is the room even mine?) as I have skipped dinner. I hardly touched it, since I wasn't hungry. I won't be too surprised if I end up wanting a midnight snack - it's already 10:07 pm- food is unappetizing now. Here's a little revelation of mine - I rarely eat when I'm sad, depressed, whatever. I suppose it's not that MUCH of a revelation._

_I realized something new a couple of minutes ago, as I was pondering whether I should write in this thing or not. The realization?_

_I hit the jackpot when it came to genetics, but I didn't get shit when it came to families._

_Guess what I found out today?_

_My mother had lied to me all this time…_

_Let's see…Grandmother (I should REALLY stop calling her that, how about Lucretia?) told me of a truth I refused to believe. I mean, she __demanded__ I should go as an Avery and drop off the Black. Being oh-so-curious, I had to ask WHY._

_To spare the details, she had told me the whole truth. The truth about my parents. Lucretia wanted to save me from the disappointment, because that's what I'm feeling right NOW._

_My dad did not die when I was one, nor was he named Septimus._

_In reality he's a criminal and not a petty one at that_

_He killed people, both Muggles and wizards alike._

_His name is Sirius Black._

_So it goes without saying that I would never want to meet him._

_Too bad; this person happens to be my dad. Oh yes, there's also the fact that he had broken out of Azkaban._

_At least the part about him being part of a respected household that no longer exists is true._

_Now that I think about it, I SUPPOSE I can't blame my mother for hiding this from me._

_I guess she would have preferred I had a false memory of a loving father instead of a murderous maniac._

_That doesn't make me feel any better._

_I still can't help but feel betrayed by her. I wonder, would she have even told me at all?_

_I've seen their pictures. Don't know how Lucretia came across them, but she was the one who showed them to me. In it mom looked so happy standing beside him. I can't even imagine how she must have felt when she found out the truth about him._

_Betrayed and hurt. Exactly as I feel._

_What am I supposed to do? About my family name? So far only three people know that I'm an Avery, since I have introduced myself to them as such. I like Black and while I don't feel the same about my "father" I feel I should still keep it. I don't know why, perhaps respect to that family that no longer exists? How about Avery-Black? I don't know. I might just go by Black. Who'll give a damn, right?_

_Well, hey, I no longer feel as crappy as I did when I started writing. I just feel…empty._

_That beats crying into a pillow._

**_X….x….X_**

Tomorrow, exactly at this moment of the day Victoria would either be on her way to Hogwarts or she would already be seated amongst the students. Normally, she would have been looking forward to this new experience. After all, it was the only time she could make an impression within a crowd - something she always succeeded on.

Admittedly, she would walk in confidently with her head held high and her sight straight ahead, walking in with a purpose - it was an attention grabber, which she once enjoyed having.

This time around, she could care less whether they noticed her or not.

Not because she had planned on not being her "old self," but for a whole different reason.

There was no longer a "warm" feeling within her, as everything seemed to have been distinguished when the truth was revealed to her yesterday. That same _empty _ feeling still lingered, and there was not much she could do. The revelation of her father's true identity as well as the lies her mother had told her had the power to do that.

Lucretia (she no longer felt the need to call her "grandmother") had not changed much from yesterday, aside from informing her the time when lunch and dinner would be served, and if she wanted to eat alone, she could do so. From what Victoria could assume, Lucretia believed that she was still in shock from what she went through - which wasn't far from the truth.

Skipping lunch, she had opted to take a short walk, informing Tila in case Lucretia asked of her whereabouts.

Fifteen minutes and a couple of houses later, she came upon what appeared to be a Muggle park. There was the usual: benches, wooden picnic tables and a child's play ground with a sand box situated in the middle of the park. Tall trees were scattered about with green shrubs, creating a fence-like barrier between the park and the next lot. There weren't many people around, and as Victoria was wearing what Muggles her age would wear, she could easily blend into the scenery.

Victoria sat down underneath the shade of a large tree, shielding her from a not-so-strong sun. Once she was comfortable, she pulled out the second letter she had received. As the owl -different from yesterday's- had the courtesy of dropping it on her desk on her way out, she had quickly read the sender's name before folding and then stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans.

Pulling out the letter from the envelope, she began reading.

_Hey you,_

_Being new and all, I thought we should meet at King's Cross and not on the train tomorrow morning. That way you won't sit in a compartment with someone unlikable (I'm saying that mildly). Plus, it'll give you a chance to meet everyone you __should__ know. Don't want to go meeting the wrong kind, do you?_

_Anyway, I'll see you then._

_- Pansy_

"So it begins," Victoria muttered, as she refolded it before setting it on the ground beside her. Looking around, she made sure that nothing was on the ground before she lay on her back.

Taken out of her reverie by a twig snapping near her, Victoria, with a start, pulled herself up to a sitting position as she looked around for the source of the noise. Ten to twenty minutes must have passed since she last was aware of her surroundings.

Now it appeared that everyone had left, except for three people who were on the other side of the park. She could tell that the sun was no longer out but covered, as there was no apparent shadow to be seen. A strong breeze suddenly stirred the tree's leaves, and Victoria knew that it was time to return home.

As she brushed away the clinging grass, she remembered Pansy's letter. Automatically feeling her pockets, she then remembered setting it aside.

_The wind must have taken it_,she thought as she began looking around for the envelope. It wasn't until she walked up to the shrubs that she saw the familiar coloring of an envelope stuck amongst brush.

Kneeling down in one knee, she bent over and began feeling her way through with her outstretched arm. Just as she felt the edge of the envelope, she felt it being tugged away. Instinctively, she pulled her arm away as her breath caught in her throat before she realized that perhaps it was her imagination that was toying with her.

"It's not like it can move by itself," she told herself, as she bent even lower to the ground to get a better view through the shrubs. "That is, unless it's been charmed to do so." The envelope was no longer in sight. Furrowing her eyebrows, she pulled herself up. Standing up to her full height and bending slightly into the plants, she could see the other side of the shrubs. There was nothing but an empty lot.

_Strange_,she thought as she pressed her palm against the foliage, and as it offered no resistance, her hand went through, pushing aside the small branches. _Perhaps it was some rabbit or chipmunk mistaking it for food._

Deciding she was better off not chasing the critter for an unimportant letter, she decided to leave it behind.


End file.
